Trophy
by ComputerSteve
Summary: Has Duncan MacLeod met his match? Dedicated to a real Highlander fan.


Trophy  
by Steve Bellinger

"Mac! Mac, listen to me! I think it'll be fantastic!"

"Sure, Richie, whatever you say," Duncan MacLeod said flatly.

"But you don't get it! It's just what I need," Richie Ryan was walking slightly ahead of the elder immortal, trying to get his full attention.

MacLeod stopped when they reached the entrance to Joe's. "Richie, it's your hair, you do whatever the hell you want to do with it, Ok? You don't need my permission!"

"You still don't like the idea, do you?"

MacLeod sighed loudly and opened the door. Inside, Joe was washing glasses at the bar. Someone sat at a table near the juke box while it played a bluesy tune. Otherwise, the place was empty. Joe turned when they entered and saw the expression on MacLeod's face.

"What's the matter with him?" he grinned at Richie.

"I'm thinking about changing my hair, and he doesn't like it."

"Dammit, Richie, what you do with your hair is your business!" MacLeod was getting irritated. "So let's drop it, OK?"

Joe looked at MacLeod, then at Richie.

"I was thinking of getting a ponytail." Richie shrugged.

"I see," Joe chuckled.

"I just think he should consider something a little more original, that's all."

"Mac," Joe said, "don't you know that imitation is the greatest form of flattery there is?"

"Imitation!" Richie's voice went up an octave. "Is that what you think? Mac? You think I'm trying to imitate you? Mac?"

MacLeod put a finger to his lips. He had turned his back to the bar, rested his elbows on the counter and had focused his attention elsewhere. Richie and Joe followed his gaze to the lady dancing alone by the jukebox. She was tall, slender and wearing a tight fitting black dress that went down to her ankles. Her straight, dark hair hung almost to her shoulders, and when she turned their way they could see that she had her eyes closed.

"Talk about getting into the music!" Richie grinned. "Who is she, Joe?"

"Hell if I know. She came in here about 45 minutes ago, ordered a glass of wine and started playing that thing. She's been dancing on and off by herself for the past half hour."

"Looks to me like she needs a partner," Richie tugged at his collar.

"You work on growing that pony tail, son," MacLeod smiled and he walked towards the mystery woman, leaving the other two open-mouthed.

She was moving slowly to the music that MacLeod found only vaguely familiar. Her eyes were still closed, so he walked softly to get a good first look. Her face was tan. She was as tall as he--and she did wonders for that dress. She did a little spin as the music ended, and when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was MacLeod's smile.

"You dance beautifully--who are you?" he asked.

She smiled wickedly, "Just who the hell are you?"

"I'm sorry, I'm Duncan MacLeod." He bowed. "And you are?"

She eyed him a moment, arms folded, from a distance. "My name is Lydia."

"Oh. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lydia," he said as he approached her with his hand outstretched. Just then, another song started up on the jukebox and Lydia began dancing again, ignoring him. He glanced over to the bar where he saw Joe and Richie laughing and shaking their heads. MacLeod hitched up his belt and walked over to the dancing lady and put his arm around her and began to move with her.

Lydia opened her eyes, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she said as she resisted his attempt to lead.

"I'm dancing with you!"

Lydia stopped. "I don't recall being asked!"

"Excuse me," he stepped back. "May I have this dance?"

She stood, hands on her hips, giving him the strangest look.

"Ahem," this time he bowed again, "Lydia, may I please have this dance?"

"No!" she said as she picked up her purse and walked towards the door.

Surprised, MacLeod ran after her. "Please, Lydia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I was just kidding around."

She stopped, turned and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I see. Apology accepted." She turned to leave again.

"Would you--" MacLeod ran ahead of her and blocked the door. "Would you have dinner with me?"

Lydia sighed. "Dinner? Are you serious?"

"I just want to make up for being a jerk before."

"And you think that all it will take is dinner?" She pushed him aside and continued out the door. Duncan sighed and glanced back at the other two men who were now laughing their heads off. "Hey, Duncan!" He turned. It was Lydia calling from two doors away. "Tomorrow, seven o'clock."

"Where?"

"Your place!" Then she walked on and vanished in the crowd.

MacLeod walked back to the bar looking a little confused. "Did you see that?"

"Losing your touch, Mac?" Richie patted him on the back.

"I am having dinner with her!"

"Yeah, and at your place! Or so you think!" Joe grinned.

MacLeod frowned. "How would she know where I live?"

Richie roared, "What a put-down!"

"I don't think so," MacLeod said. "Joe, are you sure you've never seen her before?"

"Never--and I would have remembered!"

"I guess we'll see if she shows up tomorrow night," Richie said.

MacLeod looked at Joe. "I told you Mac! I don't know anything about her!" Joe nodded. "Ok, Ok, I'll do some checking."

It was 7:25 and MacLeod was sitting on his sofa looking a little disappointed.

"Sorry, Mac," Richie walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "We shouldn't have teased you like that yesterday. You must really like this girl."

"It's not just that," MacLeod frowned. "I felt like she knew me--before I even told her my name. Maybe it was just my imagination." He got up from the couch. "Come on, I'll buy you a beer."

"Ok," Richie grabbed his jacket, "Where we going?"

"Where do you think?"

"You think she show up at Joe's again?"

"I don't know," MacLeod said as he turned the latch on the door. "Let's just go."

When he opened the door, there stood Lydia, wearing a long dark coat and a mischievous little smile. "Leaving without me?"

"Lydia! I thought you weren't coming!"

"You mean a woman is not allowed to be fashionably late?"

"Uhm, Richie..." Duncan began.

"I know, I know," he smiled, "I'll go catch a movie."

Duncan and Lydia started down the street. "So where would you like to have dinner?"

"Why don't we just walk for a while?"

"Of course," he grinned as she took his arm. "You know, somehow, I get the impression that we have met before."

"No, but I knew who you were before you said a word."

"You came to the bar looking for me! Why?"

"Let's just say you have something I want."

MacLeod stopped. "What?"

"Too many people here. Isn't there a park nearby? Where we can talk alone?"

"Yes there is," he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "But I bet you already knew that, too."

Lydia grinned slightly. "This way."

They walked quietly for a few minutes. Every time MacLeod would speak she would smile and say nothing. They turned and walked into the park. They walked several more minutes until they were in a quiet, secluded area.

"Ok, now what's this all about?" MacLeod became serious. "How is it that you know me?"

"Not only do I know you, I know what you are--Immortal!"

"Are you a Watcher?"

"No, just think of me as--a fan."

"Lydia, you're a very lovely lady, and I must admit I find you damn attractive. But can't you just give me one straight answer?"

"I told you," she said pulling away. "You have something I want. And I am not leaving without it."

"What?"

"Oh, you'll never give it up willingly."

MacLeod grinned, "I might. It depends."

"No, you would never give it up willingly," she said as she continued to back away. "So I am prepared to take it!" She reached in her coat and pulled out a 40-inch saber. She then threw off the coat, a revealed a tight fitting black jumpsuit.

"I don't believe this! You're not immortal!"

"So?"

"So I don't bring my sword on dates!"

Lydia laughed wickedly. "You never leave home without it! Let's go."

"No, I won't fight you," he said as he turned to leave.

Lydia charged. MacLeod heard her coming and turned. He was just quick enough to dodge a swing at his head.

"You're a crazy woman!"

"Maybe, but I will have what I came for!" She swung again, snapping a button from his shirt. With that, MacLeod produced a sword from somewhere behind his back.

"Look, Lydia, I don't want to fight you! Let's just walk away!"

Lydia responded with a charge that caught MacLeod off guard. Backing away, he slipped on the damp grass and fell on his butt. He barely had enough time to regain his balance and block her blows.

"You're very stubborn," he said as he swept a leg around and tripped her.

Lydia lay on her back, stunned. MacLeod jumped up, and pounced upon her, pinning her to the ground with his body. Holding her by her wrists, he grinned, "You never told me what it was you wanted. Maybe I would give it to you!" He pressed his lips to hers and kissed.

Lydia turned her head and spat, "You son-of-a-bitch!" she shouted, punctuating the last word with a hard knee to his groin. MacLeod's eyes and mouth were agape for a second, then his face curled up in pain. He rolled off her, hands between his legs.

Lydia got up, picked up her sword and walked over to him as he lay face up, gasping. She placed a foot in his side and rolled him over on his belly.

"Now, I get what I came for!" she said as she held her sword high and brought it down with a loud swoosh!

Joe stood shaking his head in disgust. "You know, it figures that you two would know each other!"

"We've been friends for ages!" Amanda smiled broadly as she hugged Lydia who sat next to her at the bar. "I mean, we are just so much alike!"

"You got that right!" Joe growled. "You're both bad news!"

"What?" Lydia grinned.

"I just can't believe it! I can't believe what you did to MacLeod!"

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Amanda said as she took a puff from her stogie.

"But, how could you do such a thing?" Joe asked.

Lydia waved her finger in the air like a tiny sword, "Swish! Just like that!" And she and Amanda broke into raucous laughter.

"I should kick the two of you out of here..."

"And loose you're only customers?" Amanda said "In fact, I think I'm ready for another cognac, and--what were you drinking, dear?"

"Merlot," Lydia said.

"I still can't believe you did that." Joe muttered as he turned to make the drinks. "After all he did for you, Amanda! After all he did for you!"

"She didn't do anything! It was me!" Lydia protested.

"She could have stopped you!"

"I wouldn't have dreamed of stopping her," Amanda said softly.

"Hey, it's not like I killed him or anything," Lydia said as she reached into her purse.

"What?" Joe turned.

"All I wanted was a little souvenir," Lydia smiled as she waved a black ponytail in the air..


End file.
